


Just a Business Trip

by Mirza



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, First Meetings, Trauma, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirza/pseuds/Mirza
Summary: “It’s a cold desert night and we’re two beautiful women without enough alcohol to keep us warm or steel our nerves.” Ashe lowered her voice and leaned closer, radiating warmth.  “The night before you take out a mark is always the longest, huh.”





	Just a Business Trip

The red rock of the valley had turned pale, almost pearlescent, washed away under the full moon. Faint suggestions of brush undulated, rolling in gentle waves under a soft breeze. The wind carried light scents of a distant river with it, even all the way to the tall cliffside where Widowmaker and her companion had made their camp. The silence was broken only by the snap of their fire and Ashe’s crunching. Every time she heard the other woman reach her hand back into the bag of chips, Widowmaker’s lip twitched. She had settled down on a small boulder a few yards from the woman and had soon regretted not moving further away. 

 

“You know,” Ashe called out. “There’s plenty of room closer to the fire, I ain’t gonna bite.” 

 

Widowmaker glanced behind her, resting her cool gaze on Ashe. The lithe woman was sprawled out behind the fire and in front of her gear. She gestured with one hand at Widowmaker, who noticed the dusting of barbecue chip dust on her fingertips even from where she sat. 

 

“It’s just gonna get colder, sweetheart, you’re gonna freeze.” 

 

 Widowmaker turned back to staring out onto the valley. In another life, she would have spit back a reply and wiped the smirk from the other woman’s face. But now, she let her thoughts drift back to the mission. It was simple: Ashe, this contractor, would guide her to the base where Widowmaker would take out the target. Should things go awry, Ashe would be able to provide backup. And in approximately two more days, she would extricate this thorn from her side. She would return to Talon and Ashe would collect her earnings before returning to whatever dusty crevice of the Southwest she had come from. 

 

There was a series of crunches - not chips this time, but gravel and sand. She pressed her lips together, letting her next breath leave her nose in a short huff. 

 

“We agreed that I would take the first watch.” Widowmaker glanced to her left, where Ashe had slid herself beside her. “You can return to your snacks.”

 

Ashe let out a small laugh, “You mean, ya grabbed your gear the moment we stopped for the day and stomped off to this rock after telling me that you’re gonna take first watch.” 

 

“That’s beside the -“

 

“We’re the only people here for leagues, trust me, you don’t need to stay up. Anyway, it’s getting cold.” Ashe reached into her jacket, pulling out two clear flasks that were each slightly smaller than her palm. Amber liquor swished within.  “I figured I’d share this with you, since you’re so determined to tough it out by yourself.” 

 

Widowmaker frowned. Rolling her eyes, Ashe signed and unscrewed each lid off, taking a small sip from each flask. She wiped off one flask with her sleeve, then held it out. 

 

“I always did think that spiders were more afraid of you than you are of them.” 

 

“You mistake my disdain for mistrust.” She took the flask from Ashe, noting that it was made of plastic. 

 

Ashe shrugged, then swallowed her shot in a quick gulp. After a moment’s hesitation, Widowmaker followed suit, letting the liquor wash down her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time she had drank and wasn’t sure why she had accepted the offering. But she felt that in another lifetime, as another woman, maybe something like this would have been a common indulgence or a social event.  She suspected there was more sugar in Ashe’s liquor than alcohol, but it felt warm nevertheless. The brief shot of heat spread through her throat to her stomach. It emanated unfamiliar warmth that made her painfully aware of the chill permeating her limbs. Had she always been this cold? 

 

“Yeah, it’s cheap. It’s okay in small doses though.” Ashe tossed her empty flask behind her and Widowmaker heard it bounce against a rock. “An old friend I used to have got me into drinking it.” 

 

“I didn’t ask.” 

 

Widowmaker traced the edges of the flask with a fingernail, shifting her gaze to the valley below. She waited for Ashe to return to her bag of chips by the fire, but the other women pulled her leather jacket closer to her body, staying put and following Widowmaker’s gaze into the distance. Widowmaker braced herself for another comment, another question. But quiet hung in the dry air between them. 

 

Try as she might, Widowmaker couldn’t return to considering the details of her mission. Ashe was like a flicker of light in the corner of her vision, pulling her attention towards her no matter how hard she tried to do otherwise.  Something prickled in the back of her mind, buried under layers of reconditioning, but all that would surface was irritation laced with unease. Somehow, Ashe’s silence felt louder than her attempts at conversation. Who was this woman? 

 

A viper, she had first thought upon meeting Ashe. Her eyes had gleamed like embers, half buried beneath sharp layers of eyeliner and mascara, as she offered her hand for Widowmaker to shake. It had been accompanied by a tight, ruby lipped smile that wavered momentarily when she touched Widowmaker’s cold skin. But her handshake had still been authoritative and vice-like. Another local contract, another mission, another overblown ego to suffer with until the ordeal was over. 

 

Now, through the corner of her eye, Widowmaker considered the woman again. 

 

The moonlight struck Ashe’s pale face and white blonde hair, illuminating them against the darkness. Her light eyelashes and lips, devoid of the heavy makeup she wore during her introduction, seemed softer than before: sublimated under the moon just as the deep red landscape surrounding them was washed out to opalescent blueness under the night sky. Widowmaker felt her breath quicken. The other woman’s features suddenly shifted, twisting into a wry grin. Her red-brown eyes flashed and caught Widowmaker’s gaze. 

 

“See something ya like?” 

 

A cold knife plunged into Widowmaker’s guts. “Hardly.” 

 

Mirth danced in Ashe’s eyes. Widowmaker noticed that the woman’s pupils were blown wide in the darkness, seeping as much light in as possible. With a wink, Ashe yawned and stretched, reaching her arms up and back to let her jacket drift open slightly. 

 

“It’s a cold desert night and we’re two beautiful women without enough alcohol to keep us warm or steel our nerves.” Ashe lowered her voice and leaned closer, radiating warmth.  “The night before you take out a mark is always the longest, huh.” 

 

Widowmaker’s mouth ran dry as she turned to look at the valley again, to let her face feel the chill air rising from the river below.  The sensation that had been prickling at the back of her head now settled into a fervent drone at the base of her skull, as though a writhing mass of insects clung to her skin as they buried themselves into her flesh. Involuntarily, her hands curled around the weak plastic flask. Small cracks appeared along its seams. 

 

What is wrong with me? 

 

Parsing her words carefully, she said, “This trip is for business.” 

 

“And I’m just doing what they call some networking,” Ashe murmured back. “I wanna know a little more about you, sweetheart.” 

 

“There is nothing that you would want to know about me.”

 

“Well, for starters,” Ashe’s voice was a whisper in Widowmaker’s ear that magnified the droning in her skull. “I know what they call you. Widowmaker. But I want to know  _your_ name, can you do that for me?”

 

Ashe's hand gently trailed down Widowmaker's shoulders, a line of fire that came to rest and burn on the small of her back. The droning became a loud, painful, searing roar as sensation rushed from the physical contact and up and down her spine and Widowmaker found Ashe's soft throat pulsing between her hands, felt their bodies topple over onto the cold sand, then heard nothing but her ragged breathing and the faint snap of the dying fire behind them. Her hands had let go of Ashe's throat somewhere in the fall and had seized her shoulders but it was as though she could still feel the woman's heartbeat burning and beating through her palms. Her body started to shake. 

 

Pinned beneath her, eyes wide and lips parted, Ashe lay still. 

 

The drift of the wind across the sand, the fire, her breathing: suddenly nothing seemed as loud as the absence of the roar in her head.  

 

"I - " Widowmaker pushed herself up, off of Ashe, shuddering. Her hands dug into the sand instead of the woman's shoulders. "That was, I did not - I was...unprofessional." 

 

Ashe seemed to collapse into herself for a moment as a deep sigh left her body. Widowmaker could almost taste the relief in the air. The woman pushed herself up, wiping the sand off her jacket. For a few moments, they both sat next to each other, Widowmaker with her arms around her legs and Ashe brushing herself off. 

 

"Not that _any_ of that was okay," the bravado had been knocked from Ashe's voice. "But, you've been through some shit, huh?" 

 

Widowmaker shut her eyes, inhaled through her nose, exhaled through her mouth. 

 

"You don't have to talk about it, but _jesus_ I wouldn't have been that forward if I had known." 

 

Widowmaker felt herself nodding slightly in response. Something inside her had shifted. She felt as though the ground beneath her was peeling away, layer by layer, exposing rot. She knew what had happened to her, what she had done, but all from a cold and calculated distance. Maybe it was this alien desert or the heat of the day - but memories threatened to bubble up within her like dizzying nausea, punctuated with pain that had been long buried.  

 

Her thoughts were broken by a small, tentative tap on her knee. She opened her eyes to see Ashe cautiously crouching next to her, poised to jump away if needed. The woman's brow was furrowed and a tense but rueful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She held out her hand. Widowmaker looked at it, finding the gesture strangely anchoring. Swallowing, Widowmaker took it in her own. Her hand was warm, but did not feel like holding scorching embers as she had thought. Something had changed. 

 

"Hey," Ashe's voice was strangely gentle. "I'm sorry if you are." 

 

"Thank you," Widowmaker said, softly. 

 

"Come on," Ashe helped Widowmaker to her feet. "I have a bag of chips to finish." 

**Author's Note:**

> it's been ages since i've written anything, but i did my best to pull my brain through the mud to get this written once the scene occurred to me. thanks for reading! ^^


End file.
